Ikanaide
by MysticalMyosotis
Summary: A drunken, crazy night leads to more than a silly mistake. Romano soon sees a new side of Spain, and it isn't pretty. M for swearing, rape, drugs, self harm - all that sensitive material. Yandere!Spain x Teen!Romano
1. Chapter 1

Spain sat at the end of Romano's bed, biting his lip. He didn't know how to tell the boy about the talk he had with France. He had been drunk - too drunk for coherent thought - and ended up selling his underling to the man. He couldn't get out of it no matter how he much he begged. He leaned down next to the teen, feeling his hair as tears rushed to his eyes. "I wish I could just stay here with you forever…" He whispered, voice trembling.

Romano woke up with a soft groan, seeing the Spaniard and turning on his side. "I'm not even going to ask why you're in my room, but get out." He looked over his shoulder with a harsh glare. "You've finally made me realize what I am - property." Spain pulled away with a soft whimper.

"L-Lovi, please, don't push me away…"

"Push _you_ away?!" He growled, sitting up. "What about _me?!_ Why are you pushing _**me**_ away?! My life has been nothing but hell and it'll stay like that forever, won't it?! Because I'm property; something to be bought! Just like a common whore!" He grabbed Spain by the collar, spitting on his face. "You wouldn't understand that, would you?!"

Spain wiped his face, snarling and pinning the boy to the wall, holding him securely there. "Don't talk to your boss like that, _**brat.**_ " He seethed. "Maybe you are just property. But you're _**my**_ property, _got it?!_ "

Romano went silent, before breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably. "S-See what you did, bastard?! See…?!" He kicked him away, slithering to the farthest corner of the room and reaching shakily for his gun. Spain smirked sickly, walking over to him.

"Hand me the gun, _ **Mi Tomate~**_ " He cooed sweetly. "You wouldn't want anyone to get _hurt_ , would you~?" The Italian cowered in fear, placing the gun on the floor. "P-Please don't kill me, Boss…" He begged. "I'll do anything…"

The man smirked, pressing him against the wall. "Anything~?" He slammed him onto the ground, undoing his pants. "Well, you can start with a blowjob, for one!"

Romano shuddered, unwittingly obliging to Spain's command as he took the man's cock into his mouth. The Spaniard groaned, slapping him with a snarl. "I said a _**blowjob!**_ Geez, for a whore you know nothing about fucking!" The Italian continued crying, licking and sucking at it sloppily. He wanted to die and escape from this hell. He glanced over to the gun in Spain's hand in longing. If he could just grab it…

He was thrown back into reality when he felt an unknown substance go down his throat, making him spit it out in dislike. Spain sighed, picking him up and putting him into his bed. He stroked his hair, taking in his scent. "You're so beautiful, _Mi amor…_ " He whispered into his ear. " _Mi tomate precioso...Mi niño lindo..._ _Te amo…_ "

Romano sobbed into his chest as Spain lulled him off to sleep, his crying eventually ceasing as he fell into a brief moment of bliss.

Romano woke up alone, looking to his left to see the bed messed up. He sat up and stretched, walking into the kitchen to see Spain cooking and singing in Spanish. He looked over to the Italian and smiled. " _Buenos dias~!_ " He smiled warmly, sashaying over to Romano and kissing his neck. "Sleep well~?" Romano bit his lip slowly, nodding. A lie, of course, but it was an escape from hell.

Spain chuckled happily, handing him his breakfast. "Eat up~!" He went back to cooking. Romano poked at it, looking for traces of poison, and silently relieved when finding none. He took a bite of his omelette; it tasted really good. He finished it in less than five minutes, eating nearly like a wolf. Spain ruffled his hair, smiling when he heard the Italian's purrs. "You're so cute~! My precious Lovi…" Romano pouted. "Shut up, Tomato Basta-" He suddenly smelled something disgusting.

"...What the hell is that smell?!"

Spain feigned innocence, giggling. "Is my manly scent intimidating _Mi Tomate~?_ " Romano stood up. "It smells like something rotting…" He ran into the living room, before gasping at the sight.

France's corpse was lying at the doorway.

Romano gasped in terror as he backed away, before being pressed up against Spain's chest with a gun at his head.

" _ **You just couldn't let it go, could you?!"**_

 _ **oooooooooooooooooooo**_

 _ **A new ongoing series. Surpriseeeeeeee.**_

 _ **Honey, if you thought this chapter was bad…**_

 _ **Yeah…**_

 _ **Review, favorite, and follow!**_

 _ **With love and cookies.**_

 _ **MysticalMyosotis**_


	2. Chapter 2

Romano tensed up, feeling cool metal pressed against his forehead as he was gripped tightly. The only thing that could be heard was the ticking of the clock and soft breaths from both men. The Italian glared at the tip at the gun with resentment; he was powerless in this position, and Spain knew it.

Spain smiled with a false sweetness, nails digging into Romano's arm. "You had to get involved, right? Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." He sighed defeatedly, resting his head on his shoulder. "You're such a prick in my side, Roma, but you're _my_ prick." He spoke in a taunting tone of voice, making the teen blind with rage as he kicked Spain away. "Quit it! You don't bring a _**gun**_ and act like a cheerful idiot, you _**psycho!**_ "

Spain looked stunned, before chuckling with a warm smile. "Maybe I am a psycho. But it keeps you _allllll_ for myself, so who cares if a bit of blood is spilled?" Romano looked to the floor, silent, before letting out a war cry and rushing up to him, reaching out for the gun. Spain laughed crazily, sweeping Romano into a chaotic dance as he shot the gun, teasing Romano by purposely shooting the bullets so they'd miss him by a hair. The Italian growled in annoyance, stopping dead in his tracks. He'd soon be dead if he attempted to force the gun away by brute force - The bastard was a complete psycho, he'd probably shoot him in the head for the fun of it. Instead, he knelt down next to France and started wiping the blood off of him, feeling for a pulse and feeling relieved when he felt a faint heartbeat, before he was picked up bridal style by Spain, who was enraged. He reloaded his gun, shooting a few more rounds into France's chest right before Romano's eyes.

"See what you've done, Lovino?!" The Spaniard seethed, looking down to him. "This is your fault." Romano, on any normal day, would've screamed right back, but today was anything but normal. The teen was shaking and sobbing, a hand over his mouth in shock as he felt blood seep from France's extravagantly colored clothes, leaving a crimson hue. Spain smiled at his work, shooting the man directly in the eye for the hell of it. Romano couldn't help it as he vomited on the floor, disgusted.

"Aww, Romanito!" Spain pouted cutely, looking to the puke on his clothing. "I just bought these shoes! How could you be so mean?" The man went to the kitchen, sifting the medicine cabinet and pulling out an empty bottle, saving some of Romano's vomit inside. He let out a squeal of pleasure akin to one of a young, lovesick schoolgirl.

" _Now I'll have some of you forever~!"_

Romano was soon tossed away like garbage as Spain ran off to the attic. Romano stood up, about to go sleep again before remembering that France's corpse was still there. He picked the man up by his arms, dragging him out to the back and starting to dig, crying softly as he begged God for forgiveness.

His religion was the only thing keeping him sane; he cherished his relationship with God above all. Spain resented this - The man was a deeply satanic individual under his forged Christian image - so he was forced to pray in absolute secrecy and participate in the most sinful acts when with his caretaker. He continued mumbling his prayer while burying the frenchman, trying to stop his sobbing and get a grip on reality.

About an hour later, he heard a crash in the house. He reluctantly ran in, seeing Spain passed out on the floor with bottles of Corona around him; about 20 bottles were intact, but there were a few broken ones around his legs. He sighed softly, dragging his boss over to the couch, laying him down and going to the laundry room, getting the man a clean blanket and laying it over him, going to sweep up the glass.

….

Romano sat at the World Meeting, biting the tip of his pencil as Germany rambled on about whatever the hell he was talking about - The Italian couldn't give two shits about the German or what he said. He instead took solace in the book he was reading; a romance novel.

He envied how they were so happy in each other's embrace. He loathed how the woman was treated with love and respect. He despised their happiness, and rejected how this happiness was created. He looked up to Spain, who was staring at him with his stupid grin. He knew he was in trouble for not paying attention to Germany's boring speech. He looked to his book, ignoring the tears sliding down his red tinted cheeks as he ran out, ignoring the shouts and calls behind him. The book was casted away onto the street as it started to rain. Visions of the life he could've had flooded his mind; visions of the happy moments like the people in the book.

 _ **Oh, what a lovely existence that would be.**_

….

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 **With love and cookies,**

 **MysticalMyosotis**


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